Hold on
by Joy Booth
Summary: Skye wishes she had done more pull ups. Ward wishes she would just let go.


**Hold On **

She runs as if her life depends on it, but there is no one chasing her. No, she's not the one in danger this time. She sees it happening in slow motion, a moment before he falls. He just punched the guy they were chasing, knocking the thug unconscious, but there is too much momentum in the hit. She knows he will go over the edge, so she runs, not for her life, but for his. She reaches out and by some miracle, catches him just in time. The only problem is now she is the only thing keeping him from dropping 10 stories to the pavement.

"I gotcha Ward, just hold on," she grunts, her arms already aching from holding nearly twice her weight.

He looks down, judging the distance, but she knows what he is thinking.

"Don't you dare!" she growls tighten her grip so that he can't let go.

"You can't hold me, Skye. If you don't let go, we both drop," he replies sadly.

"What did I do all those damn pull ups for, if not this exact moment, Agent Ward?" she asks defiantly, though he can see sweat beading on her brow from the intense exertion of keeping him from falling.

"Let go, Skye. That's an order!" he demands. He can't be the reason she dies too.

"Not… going… to… happen…" she puffs out, but a moment later he feels a drop as one of her shoulders dislocates. Her eyes are squeezed shut for a moment, tears leaking down her face, but when she opens them again she looks more determined than ever. "They're coming. They will be here. We just need to hold on."

"Please, let go," he whispers.

"Not a chance," she swears.

They stare at each other for what feels like a lifetime. She is wordlessly begging him to hang on, while he insists she let go. Her eyes fall closed again, because no matter how badly she wants to hang on, she feels like any second her other arm will fail them. He was right months ago when he said she would wish she had done more pull ups. She mentally promises anyone listening that she will do a thousand pull ups, if someone just gives her the strength to hold on a little longer.

"It's okay," he starts to say, but she doesn't hear him. She feels her legs losing their footing. She will either have to let him fall or go over the edge with him. The cement is cutting into her stomach as she presses her body into the ledge, but she continues to scramble for leverage.

In the next moment, her prayers are answered. She hears the click of door to the stairwell opening, and tightens her grip, help is coming. The team runs toward them, Coulson and May quickly pulling Ward back to safety. She breathes a sigh of relief, as Simmons tries to check Ward for injuries.

"I said I'm fine, it's Skye that has a dislocated shoulder now," he grumbles, brushing off Simmons attempts to examine him in order to oversee May cuffing the still unconscious suspect.

"It's not that bad," Skye says holding her arms awkwardly.

"We will just see about that when we get back to the plane," Simmons tuts under her breath. "Honestly, the two of you are going to send me to the madhouse with all your shenanigans."

"Mount up," Coulson calls. May and Ward drag the suspect down the stairs, the rest of the team following behind them.

When they get back to the Bus, Simmons insists on running a few test. She diagnoses Skye with a dislocate shoulder, popping it back into place, and putting her arm in a sling. Meanwhile the rest of the team gets ready for takeoff. They have been ordered to take the suspect to the Sandbox for observation. It isn't until much later that she bumps into Ward again. She is headed to the kitchen for a bag of frozen peas, when she sees him sitting at the bar.

"How did the integration go?" she asks, taking the seat next to him.

"He talked," Ward replies. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Did he give up anything on Centipede?" she asks, trying to discern why he appears so downtrodden when their mission was a success.

"He told us everything he knew. Tomorrow SHIELD teams in several major cities will be picking up his accomplices. We put a big dent in centipede today," he tells her with absolutely no pleasure.

"Why do you look like someone just kicked your dog then?"

He looks at her as if she has just turned blue.

"You would have let yourself fall, wouldn't you have?" he asks, seeming to have changed the subject.

She shrugs, wincing slightly, "You were right. I should have done more pull ups. If it had been May with you, she would have been able to pull you up no problem."

"But you're not May," he says looking away.

"I know I'm not May, but what was I supposed to do?" she asks her voice trembling slightly.

"How about not put yourself in unnecessary danger?"

"It wasn't unnecessary! I wasn't going to let you break every bone in your body just because I'm a slacker," she replies defensively.

"No, you were going to let us both be injured because you're stubborn," he returned, rage building.

"Well maybe next time I will let you fall," she growls out pain and exhaustion getting the better of her temper.

"Maybe next time you should," he whispers.

In a flash, she grabs his arms turning him toward her, forcing him to make the eye contact he has been avoiding.

"You listen here, Agent Grant Ward. You don't get to decide when you are the hero and when you need saved. You don't get to tell me when to let go. I want this. I choose this. I want to be a Field Agent. I want to be treated like an equal on this team, and if that means a few bumps and bruises along the way, so be it."

He stares at her for a long time, a thousand emotions flickering in his eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks finally.

"I'm fine," she says sliding off the stool, "I am going to go get some frozen peas, and I will be good as new."

"Why don't you head to bed, and I will bring them to you?" he offers.

"That would be great," she smiles.

A few minutes later, he shows up in her bunk, knocking on the frame.

"So, how long does this injury excuse me from strength training?" she asks. He enters the room, sitting down on edge of the bed to hold the peas in place.

"Not as long as you'd think, Princess," he chuckles. "and when you come back, we double the amount of pull ups."

She scrunches her nose, but she remembers that she owns someone or something a thousand, so the sooner she can get started the better. "Fine, but only so that next time I can pull you up."

"It's going to take a lot of pull ups for you to be able to do that," he says, surprised at her acceptance of additional training.

"I'm committed," she promises.

"Yeah, me too," he smiles. "and Skye?"

"Yeah?"

"You are not a slacker," he says quietly, leaning down to kiss her forehead, before disappearing out the door.


End file.
